


Lightning Crashes

by Severina



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Community: fanfic100
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-07
Updated: 2007-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-10 04:19:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter what else happens, they have this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lightning Crashes

**Author's Note:**

> Post Season Five  
> Written for LJ's Fanfic100 Community  
> Prompt 68: Lightning

Brian isn't sure what wakens him. He shifts slightly around air thick and heavy. A flash of lightning paints the room in bright jagged stripes, long enough for him to confirm what he already knows. He lays his head back down on the pillow and remembers a 7am breakfast meeting with Carlisle, client meeting at nine, art department round-up at eleven. More in the afternoon and a long drive home and fuck, he doesn't need this right now.

And he pulls himself from the bed. Scowls at the dog -- the No Dog In The Bedroom rule lasted just as long as the No Dog On The Furniture rule -- when she indifferently lifts her head to watch his progress across the room. Wraps his arms around Justin's waist and rests his chin on Justin's shoulder and watches the rain sluice down the window. Feels the thrum of Justin's blood beneath his hands.

"I want--"

"Don't," Brian says. And then he bites his lip, draws in a breath, wants to take it back. He needs Justin to want.

Justin turns in his arms, and Brian lifts his head, turns his gaze to the sky. Dark grey storm clouds and the sway of the old oak branches, their skeletal fingers tapping at the window. Justin's cold palm on his cheek, on the back of his neck, forcing his head down. Justin's heartbeat steady and calm against his chest.

"I want you," Justin says.

And Brian sighs, yes, this will never change. No matter what else happens, they have this.

And he lets Justin draw his head down to a kiss, as the storm crashes around them. Lets Justin take his hand and lead him back to the bed, their bed, the bed they will never share with anyone else. Lets Justin paint pictures on his skin with his hands and his mouth.

Flash of lightning, photo captured by nature. And Brian rolls to his side, takes Justin with him, twines his fingers with Justin's and concentrates on the brush of Justin's lips on his neck, the flutter of Justin's fingers in his hair. Lets his breath out in a whoosh when Justin presses inside.

Brian closes his eyes. Pushes back against Justin's chest. Justin's hand leaves his to find his cock, soft touch, not enough to get him off, just there, just… And Brian gasps when Justin slides deeper inside, just, just _there_, and he takes a deep shuddering breath, just _there_, and thinks he should say something and then realizes that he already has.

In the morning, the wind will chase away the clouds and they will notice fresh buds on the trees. The round stone bench in the backyard will still be damp with rain, but they'll sit on it anyway. They'll watch the day come alive, and Brian won't think of his cancelled morning meetings.

They'll talk. Argue and bitch. Laugh. Complain. And Brian knows that none of it matters anyway, because the decision has already been made -- his acquiescence given in the slick slide of his body against Justin's as rain pounded outside their window -- and the rest is just details.

He needs Justin to _want_. And he'll give Justin whatever he needs.


End file.
